AlterEgo
by neoepiphany
Summary: A/U. In another world, Sirius had help getting Pettigrew, and it made all the difference. But did things change for the better... or the worse? Some romantic moments, PG for mild violence later on. Please Enjoy! (chapter 4 up!)
1. Prologue

I reread The Prisoner of Azkaban for the third time over the summer. Shortly after I finished it, a friend and I at work got into a discussion about what would have happened if Sirius had successfully turned Pettigrew over to Dumbledore. I argued that Voldemort would have never risen again, Cedric would never have died, and ultimately, everyone would have been happy. He insisted that we could never know what would happen, and that trying to "fix" things would probably just make them worse. I insisted he was crazy.  
  
That night, I was still thinking about what would have happened when I fell asleep. That night, I dreamed about the Harry Potter world. I was a third-party observer, unable to interact in my surroundings, but aware of the passage of time, how things "should have gone," etc. This is the dream I had, almost exactly as I had it.  
  
Although I've been reading many other's works, this is the first fanfic I've written in 5 years, so I lay myself at your mercy. For my own ease, I've used American spellings. Dates and locations verified on the Harry Potter Lexicon. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and encouraged! :)   
_______________________________________________________________________________  
Prologue.  
All life is interconnected. The smallest decision can unalterably effect the course of the universe, yet we never realize how important these seemingly minor choices are. Deciding how many times to hit your snooze alarm in the morning might alter the course of world history, yet you'll never know the profound impact that your choice made.  
  
Yet for every decision made, millions of things never happen. Somewhere, out in the infinity of the multiverse, these events must play themselves out. Somewhere, whatever did not happen on this world will happen, in another place.  
  
Somewhere, all our "what if?"s are reality.  
  
In this world, a muggle girl called Ruth decided to call her mother after breakfast, and so she missed her date with destiny.  
But what if she hadn't made that phone call?  
Such a minor thing couldn't really change the entire world... Could it? 


	2. Purpose

Chapter 1.  
Purpose. (July, 1993)  
  
He couldn't feel the cold anymore. If he had been in a better condition, he could have tolerated it. But the cold water hit you like a thousand needles at first, but it wasn't long before your body was numb with cold. His fur had provided some protection at first, but now that was so thoroughly soaked that it was just dead weight, threatening to drag him down. He felt like he might die. Then and there.  
  
But he had a purpose.  
  
He kicked his numb paws in the waves, fighting for shore. He could see it now. A distant dark line above the steely water. So close. He could make it. He had to make it. He had a purpose.  
  
He's at Hogwarts.  
  
His legs were too numb to move. All of his joints ached with cold and use.  
  
But he was so close!  
  
The cold took him. The waves tossed him around, and he was too weak to fight it. His flicked toward the shoreline, but now it looked so far. So far away.  
  
His vision blurred, and the world dimmed away. Just before he drifted away, he felt his nose slip under the water...  
  
Ruth sat cross legged on a small blanket, a paperback novel in her hand. She plucked the stubby pencil from behind her ear, underlined a few words, and made a note in the margin. She sighed, and sat the book down. She liked to pretend it was research, these little reading sessions. Truth was, she was blocked. Complete and total writer's block. She'd managed one children's book, with very modest success, but since then she'd not written anything printable. Well, anything her editor thought was printable, at least.  
  
The air smelled salty, with just a faint hint of wood smoke. The breeze carried a chill from the north, but Ruth had the good sense to layer up before she came out. Unbothered, she gazed at the waves. She found the foam patterns soothing.  
  
There was something big and black floating on the water. "Ugh," she muttered. "I hate it when people dump their garbage out here." It was common enough to find black bags full of cans and food wrappers floating on the water. Such a beautiful shoreline, and some lazy tourists on boats want to clutter it up with their trash? Ruth couldn't understand it.  
  
Like her mother, Ruth kept a pair of work gloves in her car for just such an occasion. She stood, plucking the pencil from behind her ear. She fumbled for her keys in her skirt pocket, and managed to open up the back of the hatchback. She tossed the little book and pencil down and groped around amid the debris of the car for her gloves. Tugging them on, she turned back to the beach.  
She didn't see the trash floating on the waves anymore; it must have washed up somewhere. This particular section of the shore was rather rocky. No doubt the bag had caught between a couple of the boulders. The tide was just starting to come in, so the waves weren't too high yet.   
She walked along the shore until she spotted the trash. It was lying on a little ridge below the rocks. If she lay flat on her belly, she could just reach it.  
  
When her hands closed around the bag, she felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. It wasn't a trash bag at all-it was a dead dog.  
  
"Poor fellow," she sighed under her breath. She was a dog lover at heart. And such a big dog! He must have fallen off of someone's boat. 'Or been pushed,' she thought sadly.  
  
It was hard for her to heft him back onto the rocks. He was very thin, she realized; his skin felt like a loose sack around some sort of skeleton. Still, the water and salt weighed him down. 'No wonder he drowned, poor thing,' she thought. She'd take him down to the vets, and have him buried properly. They had a plot of land there for that sort of thing.  
  
She managed to tug him, and held him like a baby, his head on her shoulder. Salt water drenched her pink sweater and ran down her skirt. She turned back toward the hatchback, but didn't make it more than a meter before she stopped suddenly.  
  
The dog was breathing.  
  
She could just feel his ribs moving in and out as he whined in a few breaths. "Poor fellow!" she said again, running toward her blanket. She wrapped the dog up in it, and ran to the car. She threw open the passenger door and lay the dog down on the seat. As she ran around the back, she snatched the keys from where she had left them dangling from the trunk lid. She slammed her own door and drove off quickly. She had to get him to a vet quickly, and the village was quite a way off.  
  
She had a purpose.  
Dr. Arthur scratched his nose. "He's a very lucky fellow, Ruth. If you hadn't found him, he probably would have died of exposure. The amount of salt water he swallowed-well, let's just say the poor fellow's had a long swim."  
  
Ruth shook her head. "The way people treat innocent animals!"  
  
Dr. Arthur nodded and scratched his nose again. "We're going to keep him here for a few days, just to make sure he pulls through. I'll give you a list of things you'll need, and then you can pop round to pick him up on... Oh, let's say Thursday."  
  
"Pick him up?" Ruth raised an eyebrow. "You want me to-to keep him?" she stammered.  
  
Dr. Arthur patted her damp, salty army. "Ruthie, the whole village knows you're lonely. A dog will give you some company." He winked at her. "Anyway, I'd say fate has given him to you, wouldn't you?"  
  
Ruth nodded, slowly. "I'll think about it."  
  
As she left the office later with a list of dog-keeping essentials, she decided to give her mum a call. She hadn't talked to her in a while.  
  
  
When he woke up, every joint, every muscle hurt. His jaw ached, and his eyes were watering. He was nauseous and hungry at the same time. In short, he wished he were still asleep.  
  
He lifted his head, and sniffed the air. His nose was more sensitive in this form. He smelled the faint odor of other dogs, medicines, some farm animals, and the rather pungent odor of an incontinent cat. The room was dim and his eyes were watering, but he was fairly sure that this was a veterinarian's back room.  
  
He stood up on shaky legs, sending aches up into his back. He'd been lying on a wool blanket in a basket, far comfier than his previous accommodations. Nature was calling. Some thoughtful person seemed to have stacked some newspapers in the corner for this purpose.  
  
As he limped back to the bed, the door swung open. "Here now, look who's awake?" It was a rather stout, balding man in a wool vest. The vet. He bent down and patted the dog's head. "You're a lucky boy. Such a resilient fellow. Lucky the Murray girl found you." He helped the dog back to the basket, and plucked a needle off of a nearby shelf. He ripped off the plastic wrapper, and filled it with some sort of medicine. Checking the dosage, he leaned down and patted the dog's back leg. "You won't feel a thing, fella." With all the other aching, he barely felt the pinprick.  
  
As he drifted off to sleep, he heard the doctor murmuring something soothing.  
  
  
  
Ruth arrived at Dr. Arthur's door at precisely 4:30 on Thursday afternoon. She picked up the huge black dog, and, to her surprise, he limped slowly into her car, without needing help.  
  
"What are you going to call him?" the vet asked.  
  
Ruth shrugged. "Such a big dog! He needs a regal name, doesn't he?"  
  
Dr. Arthur grinned. "How about Caesar?"  
  
The dog snorted.  
  
"He doesn't seem to like that very much," Ruth chuckled. "I suppose his name will just present itself, eventually. For now, I'll just call him Dog."  
  
  
Ruth seemed almost apologetic when they arrived at her cottage. It was a cottage in name, only really. It had three rooms, altogether: a kitchen/living room, bedroom, and tiny bath. The walled garden was overgrown in the corners and little more than packed dirt in the center. To the dog, it looked like paradise.  
  
Ruth helped him out of the car, and he managed to limp into the main room. He collapsed on the floor there, on a little rug beside a rather old chair.  
  
Overall, his recovery happened fairly quickly. Ruth took excellent care of him, bathing him once a week, keeping him well fed (he was so hungry, he didn't even mind dog food for a while), and taking him on plenty of walks when he was well enough. His strength returned, gradually, even if he still couldn't sleep more than a few hours without waking up wracked by nightmares. It was better than what he had expected. Still, he wished he could have seen the boy before...  
  
He was rather fond of Ruth as well. She was fairly young. He found her to be a quiet, lonely, bookish girl. She spent most of the day either reading in the garden, or hammering away on an old typewriter that seemed to be missing several of its vowels, which she had to go back and add by hand at the end of every page. She was tall, and slender in a malnourished way. She had a ponytail of fluffy brown hair and bright eyes that sparkled behind her glasses. She liked to laugh, he thought, but her lack of company made it hard for her to have much to laugh at. As he got better, he liked to make her laugh.  
  
He had arrived there in the heat of summer. When September rolled around, he knew he was going to have to leave Ruth soon. Fortunately, Ruth turned out to be a teacher at the village school, a fact which gave the dog a good opportunity to attend to another important part of his recovery... 


	3. Backstory

Chapter 2.  
Backstory. (September-November 1993)  
On the first day of school, Ruth hurried around the cottage, seeing to everything. She took longer than usual getting ready, and when she emerged, she looked nice. She'd let her hair out of its customary ponytail, and was dressed in a matching skirt and blouse, rather than her usual haphazard sweater-skirt combination. Her Doc Martens had been abandoned in favor of some more professional slip-ons. She dumped some sausages on a plate for the dog-for some odd reason, he'd begun to turn his nose up to dog food, and insist on table scraps-cracked the door so he could get outside if he needed to, patted his head, and hurried outside.  
  
The dog watched her until she reached the corner. Then, he turned and padded back into the house. He changed.  
  
It felt good, like stretching a muscle you hadn't used for a long time. Thanks to Ruth, he was clean and better fed than he'd been in a long time, but he definitely was going to need some new robes. In the meantime, Sirius grimaced and pulled on Ruth's bathrobe. It just had to be pink, didn't it?  
  
He was feeling much better. He peered into the small mirror over the bathroom sink. He didn't want to look at his own eyes. He had a terrified look that he couldn't seem to shake. The lingering feeling of Azkaban had faded, but there were moments when he suddenly felt that feeling of isolation and despair sneak up on him again. Being here, in this warm, stable environment with Ruth put him at ease. If he weren't here... well, he imagined the feeling would still be a lot stronger. He imagined that he would still be unable to think straight, or to focus on the moment.   
  
His skin was waxy and pale, and stretched tight over his cheekbones. He was still gaunt, but he had gained a little weight. He was willing to help that along! He stepped into the kitchen, tugged open the pantry, and made a huge sandwich. He sat, eating slowly, savoring every bite.  
  
It was around noon. He paced around the tiny cottage for a moment, impatient with boredom. He was really much healthier. Any day now, he'd need to head to Hogwarts. He had to find Pettigrew. He should probably go now.  
  
For some reason, though, he didn't want to. He felt somehow responsible to Ruth, for her kindness and care. Of course, it wasn't like he could explain things to her. By the way, my name is Sirius. I've been your dog for the last few months. Thanks for all the help, but I have to go avenge my best friend's death and clear my name now. Right.  
  
He managed to pace his way into the bedroom, and his eye landed on Ruth's journal. He bit his lip. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. No, he really, really shouldn't.  
  
He sat down on the bed and lifted the little book.  
  
The cover was imprinted with "Ruth Murray. Her Journal. Presented on her Graduation day, this, the 15th of June, 1991, by her loving Aunt Eloise." He flicked in a few pages. It was a thin book, and only half full.  
  
"1 September, 1991. Mother and Charley left this morning. I can't believe that the house is going to be torn down, and that I won't see their faces again for so long. Why does Mother have to get married again, anyway? and to an American? V. disappointed. Bought new chair for reading in at church store. Still no job."  
  
He flicked in a few more pages.  
  
"23 September, 1991. Mrs. Cole has broken her leg. As only other person with college education in town, I am filling in. Mother wants to send money, but I refuse. I can make it on my own. Teacher's salary will add to book royalties, and I will be able to buy sausages again. May sell the chicken-beastly little thing keeps me awake."  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow. He flicked to about halfway through the book.  
  
"18 June, 1992. I miss the children. The factory is definitely closing. Everyone is talking about leaving. Mr. Wordworthy says that they might combine the higher and lower forms into one class each next term. V. unfair, I think."  
  
He skipped to the last entry in the diary.  
  
"28 August, 1993. Dog seems to be doing much better. V. intelligent animal, I think. His injuries are nearly all healed, and he's putting on weight. Who could have gotten rid of such a clever dog? School starts in a few days. I'm glad. Perhaps I'll take Dog for show and tell. Must buy new shoes."  
  
He put the book down. So that was her story. Back from college, and her mother remarries and moves away. In the space of a few years, the town empties out, but she feels responsible and stays. No wonder she had so much time to dedicate to a sick old dog.  
  
Sirius stood and stretched. He felt tired. It was exhausting, this recovering stuff. He took off the bathrobe, replacing it on its peg, and switched back to dog form. He curled up on the bed and fell asleep.  
  
He awoke again when the door opened, and went out to greet Ruth. He wanted to ask her how her day was, how her students were, if she had a good class... but of course, he couldn't. So he wagged his tail, and allowed his head to be patted enthusiastically. She changed clothes, and then they went for a walk. She talked to him about this and that, and he padded along beside her. Then it was home for dinner and a spot of television before bed.  
  
She watched a comedy program, and then the evening news. Sirius's ears perked up when a "Special Alert" came on, and Sirius's own picture flashed onto the screen.  
  
"Authorities warn that the dangerous fugitive Sirius Black is still at large," the announcer piped. "Black is presumed armed and extremely dangerous. Should you see Black, please call this number immediately. All sightings are being thoroughly investigated. Repeat, Black is presumed armed and extremely dangerous. Do not try to apprehend him yourself."  
  
Ruth shook her head. "I heard about that at school. I hope they catch him quickly-it makes people feel uncomfortable, having a man like that loose. We'll just hope we don't see him, eh, Dog?" She scratched Sirius's ears affectionately. He whined sadly.  
  
Ruth headed into her bedroom to change for bed. Sirius, being a gentleman, stayed sitting beside the chair until he heard her crawl into bed. Then he padded into her room and snuggled up in the dog bed.  
  
Their days went on like that for a long time. He spent his days alone, and as himself, and his nights in dog form with Ruth. Sirius felt better and better, and decided that on Halloween, he'd strike out for Hogwarts. He'd put it off for too long.  
  
It was a few days before Halloween, and already snowing. Hogwarts wasn't too far, and by now Harry would be there. He might even be able to see him once he got Pettigrew.   
  
Just thinking about Pettigrew made his heart pound. Twelve years was a long time to be angry. And no one could be angry like Sirius. He'd had a temper before, but now... he hoped Pettigrew was frightened. He hoped Pettigrew was very frightened.  
  
He watched Ruth eat her breakfast and thought out his plan. He could get into Hogsmeade, no problem. The Shrieking Shack should still be empty-it could be his base of operations. And then it was just a matter of sneaking into Hogwarts through the tunnel.  
  
Ruth got up, dressed, and knelt beside Sirius. She scratched his head affectionately. "Be a good boy today, Dog. I'll probably be a bit late tonight, but you'll be okay on your own." Sirius wagged his tail and nuzzled her hand. She smiled. "I'll see you later. Be a good boy, okay?"  
  
She pulled her coat off the rack and pulled it on as she walked out the door. Sirius watched out the window until she reached the corner. He plodded back across the kitchen and sniffed at the sausage and egg she'd left on his plate, and then shook out his fur. He stretched and switched out of dog form.  
  
He felt his muscles shifting, his skin changing, his fur vanishing, and it felt good. When it was done, he stretched again, and scratched his head.  
  
There was a tiny creaking sound from the doorway.  
  
He spun around, horrified.  
  
There, in the doorway, was Ruth, her hand clutching the purse she'd forgotten on the coat rack. Her eyes were two little circles of whites around tiny pupils, she was so surprised.  
  
"What are you?" she whispered. 


	4. Allies and Friends

(Author's Note: Listen, guys, I can't promise you a happy ending to this story. I should think that would be obvious from the summary, but I feel the need to point it out to you. Things could turn out great, but things could also be horribly depressing and dark in the end. If you don't want to risk it, get out now.  
  
Jet: Thanks for the review! You were my first one ever. ^_^ I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.)  
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Chapter 3.  
Allies and Friends. (October 1993)  
  
Sirius blanched. "Ruth. It's not what you think."  
  
Ruth dropped her purse. "I don't think anything. I don't know what to think. What are you?" Her voice was trembling.  
  
"Please, sit down, Ruth," he said. "I know this is a shock for you-"  
  
"No!" Ruth interrupted. "A shock? Why won't you just answer my question? Are you some kind of... dog man? What are you?" She edged toward the chair, but didn't let her eyes leave him for a moment.  
  
Sirius sighed and leaned against the edge of the table. "I'm not a dog man. I'm just a man." He scratched his forehead and thought how to explain things to Ruth.  
  
"Oh my God," she shouted suddenly, jumping out of the chair. "You're Sirius Black!"  
  
He sighed. "That's right Ruth. But I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
She narrowed her eyes. "You're a dangerous criminal. Why should I trust you?"  
  
"Just let me explain? I'll tell you everything. Everything you want to know. I've been her for months and never hurt you--why would I want to start now?" He scratched his head again. "Look, if you don't trust me, then call the police now. I won't stop you."  
  
Ruth stared at him for a moment in silence. Then she walked over to the phone. She lifted the receiver and dialed in silence. Sirius slumped into a chair and stared at the ceiling. 'So this is how it ends. Back to Azkaban,' he thought.  
  
"David? It's Ruth. I'm really sorry for the late notice, but I've got a nasty stomach flu. Could you take my class for me today? I've left a lesson plan in the desk. Thanks David. I owe you."  
  
Sirius's heart lifted as Ruth hung up the phone. "You didn't turn me in," he said quietly.  
  
"No," she said. Her back was to him and she didn't turn around. She drummed her fingers against the wall and then snatched up the kettle. She filled it with water and put it on the stove. "But don't try anything, or I will. I want to know how you did that. I'll make us some tea."  
  
Sirius couldn't help smiling. It had been... what, twelve full years? Since he had tea. He couldn't wait. "I'll explain everything to you, Ruth."  
  
She pulled two cups out of the cupboard, and sat them on the table. "Start with my first question."  
  
"I am just a man, Ruth. Not unlike lots of other men in Britain..." he began. He explained everything as they drank tea. Wizards and muggles. Animagi. The Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts. Everything.  
  
Ruth poured him another cup of tea. She seemed to be accepting it all well. "So why do the wizards hide their existence from us... muggles? Why bother?"  
  
Sirius shrugged. "It's better for everyone, really. If muggles had magical solutions to their problems, they'd never come up with the sorts of inventions they've managed. They'd always be asking wizards for help."  
  
"I can see that," Ruth nodded. "And I suppose it's just better to keep our worlds separate. Stop us from hero-worshipping the magical folk. So-why were you in prison?"  
  
He stared into his teacup for a moment. Then, he took a long sip before speaking. "I was accused of murder. Twelve years ago there was a... a bad wizard on the loose. A Dark wizard. Many had died or been tortured, wizards and muggles both. I tried to help my best friend hide..." He explained about Voldemort, and the Fidelius charm over James and Lily. He explained about Pettigrew.  
  
"So I tracked him down," he finished, growling, "only he was expecting me. He framed me for the murder, and killed a whole group of innocent muggles in the process. I went to jail without a trial, and I've been there ever since."  
  
"And what happened to Pettigrew? He killed himself in the explosion?" Ruth asked.  
  
He shook his head. "He was an animagus too-a rat. He's spent the last twelve years living as the pet rat to a wizarding family." He sipped his tea again. "That's why I left," he murmured. "I saw a picture while I was in-in there. He was sitting on the shoulder of a boy. I had to find him. To commit the murder I was imprisoned for. To avenge James."  
  
Ruth raised an eyebrow. "You're going to kill him?"  
  
"I can't expect you to understand," he growled, "But I have to. I was planning to leave on Halloween."  
  
"Why did you stay this long? If you know where he is, you could have gone after him at any time," she interjected.  
  
"I was recovering. If I had been on my own all this time... trying to steal food and keep warm... to hide out... Frankly, Ruth, I wouldn't be this coherent. That prison-it's not just walls and barred windows. There are creatures called Dementors. Wizards keep them as the jailers in Azkaban. They suck all the good feeling out of a place." He shivered. He felt very far away as he remembered it. "Most people go mad right away. I knew I was innocent. They couldn't take that away, and so I kept my mind. But the nightmares. Constant nightmares. You can't sleep or eat or anything in a place like that. Every ounce of energy is devoted to just staying alive. If it weren't for your kindness and the safe haven of this cottage, I'd still be half out of my mind. You've been... like a lighthouse in the dark."  
  
Ruth flushed. "I have to admit, you've been good for me, too. I always wanted a dog." She stood up, carrying their cups to the sink. "But, Sirius-how do I know all this is true? For all I know, you're lying to me to win my trust. Can you prove any of this? Wizards, Pettigrew, anything?"  
  
Sirius frowned. "You saw me change, Ruth. So you know that much is true. As to the rest of it-well, all I can ask is that you take it on faith." He spread his hands.  
  
Ruth scrutinized him for a moment before returning to her chair. "So what's the plan? How do we get to-what was it, Hogwits?"  
  
"Hogwarts," he corrected. "And we aren't going. Just me. It's too dangerous to bring you into it. Besides," his eyes narrowed, "It's a personal matter."  
  
"Which is exactly why you're bringing me along," she said smugly. "If you go in there, guns blazing, the whole thing will be botched totally. You need a rational third party to handle things."  
  
"It's too dangerous for you," he dismissed her. "And I will have my revenge on Wormtail. I've waited too long not to." He practically snarled the last words. "I'm not taking any guns, blazing or otherwise."  
  
"It's just an expression," Ruth said, exasperated. "I just mean, that if you let your temper run the show, it'll never work. You need me there to... to be your lighthouse. To keep you rational. And," she said, raising her hand as he tried to interrupt, "You won't talk me out of it. Either you let me go with you, or I'll keep you here."  
  
He frowned. "What about your job?"  
  
"Who'll miss me?" she shrugged. "The kids like David. He'll take over for me. It's not like I have family or anything to worry about."  
  
"Your mother?" Sirius prompted.  
  
"Lives in America. So long as I give her a call a few times a year, she'll be happy. Really, Sirius, it's time for me to go. I don't even have a dog anymore. And you could use... a companion."  
  
He sighed. "Fine. We'll go together."  
  
She grinned. "Great. Wait here-I'll be right back." She stood up and walked off into the bathroom.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To get scissors. That hair is coming off."  
  
Sirius grabbed his hair. Well, sure, it was a little long and not as stylish as it could be, but thanks to his time as a housepet, it was at least clean. Okay, a little matted, but clean. And it had always been longish anyway. "Not too short, right?" he shouted to her.  
  
"It'll hardly be a crew cut," she shouted back. She returned, wrapped a towel around his neck, and began to comb. "The thing is, your picture has been all over the news for weeks. People are looking for you. You're not as thin as you were when that was taken, so that's one plus. But everyone expects you to have long mangy hair. So if it's short and well-trimmed, people may not make the connection." She reached out with the comb. He ducked out of her reach.  
  
"But Ruth, it's my HAIR," he said. "You can't cut it short! It's never been short. I'd feel... naked!"  
  
"Oh Sirius," she sighed. "You're a great and powerful wizard. I'm sure if you really hate it, you can grow it back."  
  
He muttered something about a wand as Ruth tackled his hair. A few snips of the scissors, and his long mangy locks were on the floor. Ruth went to work with the comb and scissors, and when she stepped back, she smiled. Sirius stood up and scrutinized himself in the mirror.  
  
"I look," he grumbled, "like a wanker."  
  
"You're lovely," Ruth winked. "Now just wait until we get you some clean clothes. What are you wearing, anyway?"  
  
"Robes!" he said, exasperated. "You weren't this fussy when I was a dog!"  
  
"Well," she shrugged, "You weren't wearing clothes when you were a dog. Anyway, if we're going to travel together, you need to be dressed properly, don't you?" She winked. "I figure we can take the hatchback most of the way, and then you can sneak us into the school."  
  
Sirius shook his head. "We'll need to make it to Hogsmeade. Can't take the car there. It'll be hard enough to get you in, what with all the muggle-repelling charms on the area. I'll need a wand."  
  
She frowned. "What, are there wand shops around?"  
  
He nodded. "Of course. I might be able to steal one in Hogsmeade, if I can beg my way into a house somewhere."  
  
"We need a gameplan," she added.  
  
"That's easy. Get in. Get the rat. Kill the rat."  
  
"Oh yes," she nodded. "That'll get your name cleared and all. I can see it now. You'll hand over the body, and say, 'See, I didn't kill him. Well, I did now, but I didn't back then.' Yes, that'll go over well."  
  
"You have a better suggestion?" Sirius growled.  
  
"Isn't there some sort of wizard authority we can turn him over to? Someone who will listen to your story? Someone we can trust?"  
  
Sirius noted the "we" in that statement. He thought for a moment. "Dumbledore," he said finally.  
  
She smiled. "And now we have a plan." 


	5. Confrontation

(A/N: This chapter represents the point where my AU most intersects with the events in the book. As such, by necessity, certain bits of dialogue and action are highly reflective of those in the book. Please consider this a mass citation to The Prisoner of Azkaban. I have absolutely no desire to plagiarize such a fantastic work! Occasionally, a slight excerpt or quote is used. I recommend you have a look at Chapter 17-20 of POA for contrast, or even read them side by side. ^_^   
  
Also, forgive the rather lengthy repetition. I felt it was necessary to show the subtle differences in the way things played out. From this moment on, the changes get more and more extreme. This is a VERY long chapter, so if you haven't any spare time at the moment, perhaps you'd better try it later.)  
Chapter 4.  
Confrontation.  
(June 6, 1994)  
  
..."Ron-come on-back under the cloak-" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore-the Minister-they'll be coming back out in a minute-"  
  
But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even ctch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws...  
  
...Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll...  
  
...All they could see now was one of Ron's legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground-but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ron's leg had broken...  
  
..."Harry," Hermione whispered, "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack..."  
  
...Wand held tightly before him, Harry kicked the door wide open.  
  
On a magnificent four poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring, next to a young woman with long, loose brown hair. On the floor beside them, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron.  
  
Harry and Hermione stared at the strange woman.  
  
"Who are yo-" Hermione started, but Ron interrupted.  
  
"He's the dog... he's an Animagus... Run!"  
  
Harry turned around. The man in the shadows shut the door behind them.  
  
He didn't look at all like Harry expected. He was clean, and dressed in muggle clothes. His dark hair hung nearly to his chin, falling in front of his face. He was very thin, but not emaciated like he should be. His eyes, though, had a haunted look. His teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" he said, pointing Ron's wand at them. Black caught their wands as they flew out of their hands.  
  
"Do come in, Harry," said the woman on the bed. "And you too, young lady."  
  
Black nodded toward the bed. There was no question-it was an order. They walked over and stood to the side of Ron.  
  
"I thought you'd come and help your friend," Black said smoothly. "Your father would have done the same for me."  
  
Harry lurched at Sirius, but hands caught him from either side. "No Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper. Ron, however, spoke to Black.  
  
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely. He was pale from the effort of standing upright and swayed to the side.  
  
The woman swung off the bed quickly, and grabbed Ron's arm. "No one is killing anyone. Come here and lie down before you damage your leg even further."  
  
Sirius frowned. "Ruth-" he growled, viciously.  
  
She raised a hand as she pulled Ron onto the bed and settled a pillow behind him. "NO, Sirius. We'll stick to the plan. No one dies tonight."  
  
"Why so squeamish?" Harry muttered. "He never cared before."  
  
"Harry-" Hermione interrupted. But Harry was furious.  
  
"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" he shouted, launching himself at Sirius.  
  
They were a tangle of arms and legs for a moment as Harry knocked Sirius off his feet. But the woman Ruth was too quick. She launched herself forward and pulled a fiercely kicking Harry off of Sirius. Hermione flew at Ruth, fists swinging, but she wasn't as weak as Sirius and just knocked the girl out of the way. She pushed Harry into Hermione, planting herself between them and Sirius. Hermione slunk to the floor.  
  
"He would agree with you, Harry. But you don't the truth," she panted. "Any of you. You don't know the whole story."  
  
"He sold them to Voldemort, that's all I need to know," Harry muttered. He was shaking. Sirius stared up at him from his vantage point on the floor.  
  
Ruth shook her head. "That's not how it happened-" she began. She was cut off by a noise from downstairs-someone had entered the shack.  
  
Hermione screamed for help. Ruth reached behind her and jerked Sirius to his feet and clear of the door just as it burst in a shower of red sparks. Black pushed her behind him. Lupin entered, his face pale, and his wand ready. His eyes flickered over Harry and Hermione, took in Ron on the bed. He paused at the woman, and then stared at Sirius.  
  
There was a long, unsteady silence. Harry could feel Hermione trembling behind him.  
  
Then, Lupin spoke. "Where is he Sirius?"  
  
The two men regarded each other for a moment. Then, slowly, Sirius pointed to Ron. Harry looked to Ron, whose face was a picture of bewilderment.  
  
"But then..." Lupin stared at Black so intently it seemed as if he were trying to read his mind. "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless-" Lupin's eyes widened "-unless he was the one... unless you switched without telling me?"  
  
"Professor-" Harry began, "what's going on-" but never finished the question.  
  
Lupin embraced Black like a brother. Ruth smiled fiercely.  
  
Hermione was outraged. "I DON'T BELIEVE IT!"  
Lupin tried to calm her, but Hermione was livid. "Harry-don't believe him! He's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too-he's a werewolf!"  
  
Lupin sighed sadly. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. Not at all up to your usual standard Hermione," he began. Lupin calmed the children in a way that neither Ruth nor Sirius could have managed. He explained about being a werewolf. About how he'd seen them on the Marauder's Map. About how he'd seen Sirius pull two of them under the Whomping Willow.  
  
"Do you think I could have a look at that Rat?" he finished.  
  
Ron was indignant. "What's Scabbers got to do with anything?"  
  
"Everything," Lupin said.  
  
Ron pulled a furiously squiggling Scabbers out of his robes. The rat clawed and bit in an attempt to escape.  
  
"So that's him," Ruth murmured.  
  
"What's my rat got to do with-" Ron began, but Sirius interrupted.  
  
"That's not a rat. That's a wizard. An Animagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"Peter Pettigrew's dead! He killed him twelve years ago!" Harry pointed at Black.  
  
"I meant to, but little Peter got the best of me," Sirius growled.  
  
"Perhaps you should start at the beginning," Ruth suggested.  
  
Lupin nodded. "There are parts of it even I don't understand," he began, but he started the tale from the beginning. He explained about being a werewolf, and how his three best friends became Animagi to accompany him during his transformations. Slowly the children's faces shifted from shock, to confusion, to a sort of overwhelmed surprise. As Lupin explained about Sirius' trick on Professor Snape, however, they were all shocked.  
  
Snape threw off the invisibility cloak, and confronted them. He refused to be dissuaded. He accused Lupin of helping Black into the castle, but his eyes flicked over to Ruth and he paused.  
  
"Even getting muggles involved, I see. The Ministry will be most interested in this."  
  
Hermione interrupted him. There was a shouting match between Snape and his students. Ruth tried to discreetly sneak Ron's wand over to Black, but she couldn't move quickly enough. She needn't have bothered. When Snape raised his wand to threaten Black, Harry jumped in front of him. Ruth gasped. All three children cast a spell at once, and Snape fell to the floor, a trickle of blood running from under his hair.  
  
"You shouldn't have done that," Sirius murmured. "You should have left him to me..."  
  
"Shut up, Sirius," Ruth murmured. "It was a job well done. But hurry up and finish explaining things before he wakes up. Start with Azkaban."  
  
Sirius grumbled at Ruth, but began explaining. He described Azkaban, and how he kept himself from going mad. He showed them the picture of Scabbers on Ron's shoulder, and Lupin figured out that Peter had cut off his own finger to fake his death. Sirius explained what happened that night.  
  
It was clear that no one would be convinced until they saw Pettigrew for themselves, however, so Lupin and Black turned on the rat. With a blinding flash of light from their wands, Scabbers became Pettigrew.  
  
"Well, hello Peter," Lupin said pleasantly, "Long time, no see."  
  
"S-Sirius... Remus... My Friends... my old friends," Pettigrew squeaked. Sirius's wand arm shot up, as though out of instinct, but Ruth caught it. She slipped her arm around his, locking him in place.  
  
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died," Lupin began, "You may have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed--"  
  
"He's going to try and kill me again Remus!" Lupin wailed. "He killed Lilly and James and now he's going to kill me too-"  
  
"No one is killing anyone, Pettigrew," hissed Ruth. "We just want some information."  
  
"They're not to be trusted!" Peter said shrilly. "He's got dark powers that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him! And she's obviously a servant of the Dark Lord!"  
  
Sirius and Ruth both growled back at Pettigrew at the same time. "What, Voldemort teach me tricks?" and "I was 11 years old! Servant of the dark lord indeed!"  
  
Sirius laughed. "Why Peter, you haven't been hiding from ME-you've been hiding from the Death Eaters. Voldemort's lot aren't very happy with you, after your little gift. I heard some things in Azkaban. And not all of Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them."  
  
Pettigrew sputtered.  
  
"Why," Ruth interrupted, "Would an innocent man spend twelve years as a rat?" The question was posed as though it were something she was dying to know.  
  
"I was scared! If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put their best man in jail! The spy, Sirius Black!"  
  
"I, a spy for Voldemort?" Sirius growled. "Tell me, Peter. When did I ever run after bigger, stronger friends? I'll never understand why I didn't see it before."  
  
"But if you didn't use Dark Magic," Hermione interrupted, "How did you escape from Azkaban? No one's ever done it before."  
  
"There! Yes, thank you! That's what I want to know."  
  
"Do shut up, Pettigrew," Ruth muttered, as Lupin glared at him.  
  
Sirius shook his head. "I don't know how I did it. I think the only reason I never lost my mind is because I knew I was innocent. It wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't take it away from me... but it kept me sane... when it all became too much, I could transform into a dog..." He swallowed.  
  
"But when I saw that picture of Peter... I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry... perfectly positioned to act. It was like a fire lit in my brain. I had to do something, I was the only one who knew he was alive. I slipped past the dementors as a dog. I was thin, very thin... Thin enough to slip through the bars... I swam as a dog back to the mainland. Ruth, this muggle," he pointed to Ruth, and she looked down at her feet, "rescued me, and took care of me. It was months before she found out who I am, but she trusted me, and agreed to help me. She nursed me back to health and sanity. We came here together, and together we've been trying to find Peter all year."  
  
He looked at Harry. "Believe me. Believe me, I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."  
  
There was a moment of silence, while everyone waited to see his response. Eventually, Harry nodded.  
  
Peter sniveled and pled. He grabbed at Sirius's feet, and he kicked him away. "My shoes are clean-I don't need filth like you dirtying them up."  
  
He grabbed at Ruth. "Please, Lady, you won't let them hurt me, will you? Have pity!"  
  
She shrunk back. "Don't touch me. Don't you ever touch me. I know all about you," she said, her tone condemning.  
  
"Remus!" he squeaked, turning, "You don't believe this... wouldn't Sirius have told you if they'd changed the plan?"  
  
"Not if he thought I was the spy. I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually.  
  
"Forgive me, Remus," said Black.  
  
"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend. And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing it was you who was the spy?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"If that's all established," Ruth said with a smile, "It's time to turn him over to Dumbledore."  
  
Lupin's eyes widened. "For what he's done-" he began grimly.  
  
"No." Ruth shook her head. "A quick death is poor justice. Send him to Azkaban, where he belongs."  
  
Lupin regarded the muggle woman for a moment, then nodded his head. "I see. Sinister, in its way, but fair."  
  
The children looked confused. Ruth smiled at them. "Don't you see? Being trapped inside his own mind... with his own cowardice and bad deeds... it's far worse than anything we can do to him. Because he did it to himself."  
  
Ron scowled, but Hermione nodded. Eventually, Harry did too.  
  
Pettigrew sputtered his thanks, but a quick kick from Sirius silenced him.  
  
"Then it settled," said Lupin. He raised his wand to Pettigrew.  
  
"No!" Harry shouted, raising a hand.  
  
"I'm going to tie him up, Harry. That's all, I promise." Thin cords shot from his wand, and wrapped themselves around Pettigrew. He wriggled, bound and gagged on the floor.  
  
"But if you transform, Peter, or try to escape-we will kill you," Sirius growled.   
  
Lupin cast charms to splint Ron's leg. Ruth giggled as another spell lifted like a marionette.   
  
"And two of us should be chained to this," Sirius growled, prodding Pettigrew with his toe, "just to make sure."  
  
Ron and Remus volunteered, and manacles were conjured. Ruth snapped them around wrists. As she locked them down on Professor Lupin's wrist he smiled.  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you, my dear," he said pleasantly. "After all this, perhaps we can get to know each other properly."  
  
Ruth smiled. "I've heard so much about you already. I'm sure we'll be friends." She clamped the manacles on Peter and stepped back. The progression set out through the tunnel.  
  
It was slow going. Besides being hampered by Snape and Pettigrew, the many anti-muggle charms on Hogwarts made it hard for Ruth to pass along. Twice, she was convinced that the tunnel ended in a sheer rock and Professor Lupin had to cast a charm to move her along, and once, she was suddenly overcome by a strong desire to run away, and only Harry grabbing her elbows and steering her forward got her through.  
  
"Do you know what this means?" Sirius said to Harry as he navigated Ruth down the tunnel.  
  
"You're free."  
  
"Yes, But I'm also-I don't know if anyone told you-I'm your godfather."  
  
"Yeah I knew that."  
  
"Well... your parents appointed me guardian. If anything happened to them... I'll understand of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle... but... well... think about it. Once my name's cleared..."  
  
"What, live with you? Leave the Dursleys?"  
  
"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to. I just thought I'd-"  
  
"Are you insane? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"  
  
Sirius turned around and peered at Harry around Ruth. "You want to? You mean it?" He was grinning widely.  
  
"Yeah I mean it!"  
  
Sirius laughed. "Actually-well, the truth is, Ruth and I... as soon as my name's cleared..." He cleared his throat, and nodded at her. "She's not normally as daft as this," he grinned, as Ruth quietly protested about needing to be at an appointment at that precise moment. "You'll like her... we're getting married."  
  
Harry's grin widened. "Congratulations!"  
  
"I'd like you to be best man, Harry. It would have been James, but..."  
  
"Of course." Their tone was serious for this, but neither seemed to be able to shake their cheesy grins.  
  
They left the tunnel, and started across the grounds. The anti-muggle charms seemed to wear off, and Ruth shook her head to clear it. "Sod that for a lark," she muttered under her breath and thanked Harry and Remus for helping her through the tunnel. The castle glinted ahead of them.  
  
Then, a cloud shifted free of the moon. Remus suddenly stiffened. His limbs began to shake.  
  
"Oh my-" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight!"  
  
"Run," Sirius whispered. "Run. Now."  
  
Harry darted forward, but Sirius flung him back where he collided with Ruth. "Leave it to me. RUN!"  
  
As Lupin transformed with a sickening sound, Sirius transformed and bounded forward. They fought, snarling, on the front grounds. Peter, meanwhile, dove for Lupin's fallen wand. Hermione screamed. A bang burst from Pettigrew's wand, and in flash of light, Ron fell motionless to the ground.  
  
Herry raised his own wand and shrieked "Expelliarmus!"  
  
But Pettigrew transformed.  
  
"NO!" shrieked Ruth, and took off after the bald tail scurrying through the grass.   
  
"Be careful!" Hermione shrieked, as the woman and the rat ran dangerously close to the fighting werewolf and animagus.  
  
"Sirius-he transformed! Pettigrew got away!" Harry called out.   
  
"I got him!" Ruth lost a shoe as she ran, abandoning it without missing a step, and kicked her foot out of the other. She ran faster barefoot. She was wearing a loose blouse over a tee shirt, and as she ran, she ripped the blouse off. The rat scampered toward a bush. Before it reached it, Ruth flung herself forward, the blouse held before her like a net.  
  
The scrabbling rat was caught beneath it. Ruth managed to grab it, and, although it bit her through the shirt, she tied it into a bundle. Pettigrew kicked his legs futilely. She raised the shirt to her mouth, and, although she was panting, spoke quite clearly. "If you change again, I will kill you with my bare hands and throw your body in the lake. You saw me run. You know I can do it." The rat grew still.  
  
She carried the bundle back toward the others, but something odd was happening. She froze. A group of things in black hoods were drifting toward Harry and Hermione as they tried to pull Ron toward the castle. She stiffened.  
  
"Run!" she screamed. "Harry-Run!"  
  
Sirius came bounding back toward the two, bleeding from gashes on his back and muzzle. He transformed back into himself in mid step, whipped out his wand and bellowed "Expecto Patronum!" A tremendous silver dog emerged from the wand, and drove the black hooded things away. Sirius stared at the wand, as if shocked.  
  
Harry rubbed the back of his hand at his head, and looked at Sirius, whose face was bleeding badly. "What did you think of?" he panted.  
  
Sirius lowered the wand. "You, coming to live with Ruth and I," he said quietly, just out of Ruth's hearing. She bounded toward them, panting, and handed the bundled-up Rat to Harry.  
  
"He's in there. I don't think he'll try to escape again," she said.  
  
Snape had fallen to the ground, forgotten. They all turned, surprised, to hear him moan. He sat up, rubbed the trickle of drying blood on his forehead, and looked around as though trying to clear his head. When he saw Sirius, his eyes widened and he patted his robes, looking for his wand.  
  
"Looking for this?" Sirius said, holding up the wand. "I'll give it back when we get to the castle."  
  
"Keeping us hostage? You'll never succeed, Black," Snape snarled.  
  
"Professor-" Hermione began.  
  
"HOLD YOUR TONGUE, MISS GRANGER!" he bellowed. "It was your foolishness-you and Potter-that got us into this in the first place!"  
  
"He's an innocent man," Ruth said. She pointed to the bundle in Harry's arms and said, "There's the proof. Peter Pettigrew. He's an animagus. A rat. And if you don't believe it, just come with us to the castle. You'll hear everything."  
  
"Or I could knock you out again," said Sirius, pleasantly. He aimed the wand at Snape. "Either way. Although, I, of course, have my preferences..." Ruth elbowed him. Sirius muttered something along the lines of "greasy haired git" under his breath.  
  
Snape stood up. For a long moment he regarded Sirius. Eventually, he nodded, although with a bit of a sneer. Ruth and Hermione lifted Ron, and they set off toward the castle.  
  
As soon as Sirius stepped through the front doors, they began to scream. They shrieked, at full volume, the sound cutting across front campus like a knife.  
  
"Flitwick's charm!" Hermione screamed over the noise.  
  
"The whole castle will wake up in a minute!" Harry screamed. Everyone's hands were over their ears over the shrieking.  
  
"Good!" Sirius bellowed. "Let them come!"  
  
MacGonagoll was the first to round the corner, clad in the same tartan robe the trio had seen her in first year. She started, surprised to see Black entering the castle with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Professor Snape, and a strange woman in tow, but quickly aimed her wand and shouted "Stupefy!"  
  
"NO!" shrieked Harry and Hermione at the same time. Ruth tried to dive in front of Sirius, but she was too late-he hit the ground with a thunk.  
  
"Professor, he's innocent!" shouted Harry, as Flitwick rounded a corner. He silenced the doors with a swish and flick of his wand. "He's innocent," Harry reiterated into the sudden, thundering silence. "We have the proof." He held up the squirming bundle. Pettigrew was biting at the fabric of Ruth's shirt in an attempt to get away. Ruth was kneeling over Sirius, trying to use the hem of her skirt to stop one of the scratches on his face from bleeding.   
  
MacGonagoll looked thunderstruck. She looked at Professor Snape. He glowered. "He confunded them, obviously. And the muggle too. Best to get them to the hospital wing, and Black to the Dementors right away."  
  
"What's going on?" It was Dumbledore. He rounded the corner, and took in the scene with a quick glance. Cornelius Fudge stood by his side. "Black!" he said triumphantly.  
  
Everyone began speaking at once. Dumbledore held up a silencing hand. He looked to Snape. "Severus?"  
  
"I followed Lupin out through that old secret passage of his," Snape sneered, haughtily. "He's been helping his old friend to sneak into the castle. They've obviously confunded Potter and Granger here-"  
  
"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry yelled. Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey had appeared in the doorway from the corridor.  
  
"Professor, Sirius Black is innocent, we've got proof-" Hermione began in a rush. Harry held out the squiggling rat.  
  
Snape opened his mouth, probably about to shout something along the lines of "Hold your tongue," but Dumbledore reached out to the bundle in Harry's hand. His twinkling eyes looked grim.  
  
"Peter Pettigrew-he's an animagus," said Harry.  
  
Dumbledore frowned. He swished his wand, and suddenly the rat was frozen mid-squiggle. He peeled off the now-torn shirt. The rat hung before him, immobile, his eyes glittering in fear. "Mr. Weasley's rat," Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
"Dumbledore, you can't be serious!" Fudge muttered. "Let me fetch the dementors-we'll take care of him right now!"  
  
But Professor Dumbledore ignored this suggestion. "Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, I'd appreciate it if you'd let the students know that everything is under control. Poppy. Please take these students to the hospital wing and see to their injuries." They didn't dare argue, not with the tone in his voice. "Severus-I know that you've been injured as well, but I need you to make up a batch of veritaserum, as quickly as possible please." Snape nodded gravely and stalked down a corridor. "Minerva, Minister, please accompany this lady, Mr. Black, and I to my office." Dumbledore's tone was intense.  
  
Professor MacGonagoll muttered "Ennervate" and Sirius's eyes flicked open. Ruth patted his shoulders soothingly, stood, and helped him to his feet. She flicked her eyes toward Dumbledore and raised an eyebrow. He nodded.  
  
Madame Pomfrey bustled the protesting Harry and Hermione toward the Hospital wing. When they had gone, Dumbledore gestured the rest of them down the hallway. Professor MacGonagoll brought up the rear of the group, with a look that seemed to say no matter what rat was in Professor Dumbledore's hand, she didn't trust Black.  
  
When they reached Professor Dumbledore's office, he pointed Ruth and Sirius toward chairs with his wand. "Sit," he said, a command that they couldn't help but obey. He held the rat by the tail, and prodded it with his wand. In a flash of light, he became Peter again, just like in the Shrieking Shack. MacGonagoll gasped. Fudge whimpered "Great Scott!"  
  
"Peter Pettigrew," said Dumbledore gravely. His brow furrowed.  
  
"P-Professor Dumbledore!" squeaked Pettigrew.  
  
"Sit," said Dumbledore. "And no one say a single word." They sat in a stony, frightened silence.   
  
Eventually Snape entered, holding a beaker full of steaming liquid. Dumbledore pulled some cups from a shelf behind his desk, and a dose was administered to each.  
  
They were questioned over and over. It lasted until morning.  
  
Students were already moving into the Great Hall for breakfast, all curiously gossiping about the previous night's events, when Dumbledore sent MacGonagoll for Harry and Hermione.  
  
The scene in Dumbledore's office was a strange one. Ruth and Sirius sat bleary eyed in their chairs. Dumbledore sat in his chair, flanked by Fudge and MacGonagoll, all with dark expressions on their faces. Pettigrew was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Harry, Hermione. We're planning to announce it in a few minutes, but we thought you deserved to know first. After a thorough interrogation, we," he spread his hands to include Fudge and MacGonagoll, "have unanimously agreed that Sirius Black is to be pardoned of all charges and immediately released from Azkaban. We've placed Peter Pettigrew under the charge of the dementors-he'll be taken to Azkaban as soon as arrangements are made to rat-proof his cell." The students both grinned widely. Hermione sighed with relief.  
"I imagine you'll have a lot to talk about," Dumbledore went on, "so you may remain here until you are finished." He flicked his wand, and some breakfast appeared spread across his desk-toast with marmalade, goblets of milk, plates of scrambled egg and bacon. MacGonagoll and Fudge left the room, but Dumbledore remained behind his desk for a moment.   
  
His eyes went to Sirius. It was a long moment before he spoke. "I have never been more pleased to have been so wrong, Sirius. Welcome back. And my best wishes for your new life."  
  
Sirius's broad smile shone. "Thank you, Professor." 


End file.
